100ships prompt table. I haven't posted this on here and that's my fault.

#01 – Adamant	#02 – Snow	#03 – Lion	#04 – Spark	#05 – Amber
#06 – Lust	#07 – Bronze	#08 – Mint	#09 – Arctic	#10 – Black
#11 – Moonlight	#12 – Sunlight	#13 – Blue	#14 – Navy	#15 – Tea
#16 – Neon	#17 – Twilight	#18 – Blush	#19 – Wine	#20 – Nude
#21 – Rhythm	#22 – Brown	#23 – Linen	#24 – Ember	#25 – Thistle
#26 – Cherry	#27 – Orange	#28 – Vanilla	#29 – Bone	#30 – Harlequin
#31 – Cadet	#32 – Chocolate	#33 – Peach	#34 – Lead	#35 – Cream
#36 – Sand	#37 – White	#38 – Crimson	#39 – Pink	#40 – Ocean
#41 – Dove	#42 – Platinum	#43 – Yellow	#44 – Earth	#45 – Midnight
#46 – Pearl	#47 – Frostbite	#48 – Pumpkin	#49 – Electric	#50 – Purple
#51 – Coral	#52 – Salt	#53 – Crow	#54 – Rainbow	#55 – Cloud
#56 – Flame	#57 – Red	#58 – Ash	#59 – Rose	#60 – Slate
#61 – Green	#62 – Ruby	#63 – Olive	#64 – Lipstick	#65 – Spice
#66 – Grey	#67 – Denim	#68 – Rust	#69 – Flirt	#70 – Sunset
#71 – Sable	#72 – Desert	#73 – Jade	#74 – Sage	#75 – Buff
#76 – Jet	#77 – Plum	#78 – Leather	#79 – Liberty	#80 – Metal
#81 – Sepia	#82 – Lavender	#83 – Scarlet	#84 – Crystal	#85 – Chestnut
#86 – Shadow	#87 – Lemon	#88 – Mystic	#89 – Silver	#90 – Coffee
#91 – Seafoam	#92 – Lime	#93 – Punch	#94 – Pickle	#95 – Champagne
#96 – Copper	#97 – Bittersweet	#98 – Honey	#99 – Candy	#100 – Gold

Originally posted on Tumblr in Summer of 2017, also posted on Dreamwidth & AO3.
The AO3 version is the superior version honestly.

Prompt 44: "I'm going to keep you safe."

Summary: “You wanted to protect everyone you surrounded yourself with, to ensure they lived another day.” He answers his own question The medic is a humanitarian through and through and would sooner give his last even when he was in need. The man truly was an angel, moments like these had found ex-yakuza wondering to himself how in the hell did he wind up with someone like this?

“Doesn’t help that months after that hurricane, the Omnic Crisis came,” rubbing his eyes as means to bate sleep or the incoming tears away.

A storm is passing by the Spanish Coast at Gibraltar, a tumultuous one indeed. Lightning cracks, thunder blares loudly outside of the base; waves crashing harshly. If they were on one of those old-fashioned pirate ships, there’s a good chance that everyone would be shipwrecked. The likelihood of any survivors were slim.

Storms however did not bother Hanzo; quite the contrary, it soothes and delivers peace to his mind. The rain belting down on the windows relaxing and allows for him to fall asleep easily. Well, if the shaking lump beside him could sleep.

“I will never understand your fear of storms, unless you choose to share them with me,” Peering down from his tablet, he was reading a novel in his native language to try to lull himself to sleep. Sighing, he pulls back the covers to reveal a mass of dreads and a shirtless freedom fighter that just so happened to be a world-renowned DJ.

“Lúcio, it is going on one in the morning.” The archer felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips, out of the sincerity that the display before him was in a word, endearing.

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(This is an excerpt of a project I sincerely hope I can pick back up. I started this personal FF7 project in 2016; also Idk when I'll ever have a real name for it. This name stuck and it is what it is LMFAO)

“You lot think bein’ in ShinRa would be easy? That lil graduation certificate don’t mean shit in the field of battle.” A burly man, with a scar across his eye and his neck walked down the line of candidates as he spoke with his country accent. His black hair neatly trimmed and combed back, with his beard also neatly taken cared of.


“This lot of twenty has a lot to prove, you may have attended ShinRa Military Academy, but do you truly have what it takes? Has everything you learned in that fucking classroom actually serve you in battle, or will you be one of the casualties scraped up and buried in the Planet?” He stopped in front of a young man with crimson eyes, short-cropped dark brown hair. Looking at him with his grey eye, he looked down the line to his right.


“A mission of this magnitude,” a voice that was deep in baritone, yet held sophistication with a light accent not heard from the area. “Was initially only reserved for us to handle however, achieving success for this can guarantee you a spot in the Turks, SOLDIER or in the army.” He was dressed in navy blue suit, his badge pinned to the left side of his collared white dress shirt. Ebony hair pulled back and placed in a low ponytail, and rectangular glasses only a skeptic would don. Through the lens, black eyes were seen scanning every possible candidate.

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(I wrote this for my Creative Writing class in 2012. The only nonfiction work on this page thus far.)

“Do you see anything suspicious?” A boyish voice was heard over the walkie-talkie. In a synchronized notion, we glanced down at the communication device on the wooden porch we gathered around. Dustin, the brunette haired boy with freckles picked it up and spoke with conviction, “No, not yet. Everything is peaceful on this end.” He sent the message back. My blonde friend Brittany and I were sitting there, listening intently to not only the neighboring conversations around us, but our surroundings.

You would think that kids who were between the ages of nine and eleven would be interested in playing wholesome games, like Monopoly, Old Maid or even playing video games. However, we were on a mission to bring prosperity and tranquility to everyone in our sector. If it was a suicide mission, we would have sacrificed ourselves for the greater good of the town.

We were on the lookout for Big Becky.

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“P-P-Please . . . have mercy.”

The young man pleaded beneath the shadow which was looming towards him with a silhouette of a woman. Her left eye started to gleam a violet light, upon the victim quivering in the corner of the damp, street alley. Noticing his once peach colored skin tone was now bloodied into a purple-ish blue tint, tender enough to be skinned alive. His hair was in complete dishevel, his face was racked with abrasions and scars from the thrashing. His once bright, amber eyes were sullen, almost sunk into his face. A black eye was present on his right eye, while the left popped a blood vessel. The rest of his appearance consisted of ripped and ruffled clothing, pants discarded somewhere in his pursuit to hide from this woman and dirty, bare feet.

“I’ll . . . I’ll do anything, please! D-d-don’t cause any harm to me or my family!”

A dark smirk presents itself on her features, the idea of not harming the man or his family quirked her interests in a sadistic manner. Licking her pink appendage against her pale lips, she took a step closer to the male as he scooted back, curling into the fetal position.

“Have mercy? Don’t harm my family? My my, you assume that mercy and harm are within my vocabulary.” The Korean fighter advanced, kicking the man onto his back so she can see his face one more.

“Too bad I don’t care.” Laughing maniacally, Juri brought her leg up in an upsweeping motion, before it brutally was brought down, crushing all the bones left in his face. The Tae Kwon Do artist began to pivot her heel on the head, crunching the bones in the skull of the now slowly dying male. Taking another step forward, the violet eyed beauty was making sure he was dead and that no nerves from the brain were active. Kicking the body into the cemented wall, causing what was left of his brain to burst.

“He could’ve put up more of a fight.” She shrugged, feeling the sky turn grey, the clouds populate in number and the rain starting to trickle from above. It began light with small prattling, until it began to downpour, soaking her spider-inspired purple breastplate and her baggy trousers. Turning from the scene, she walked out of the alleyway and down the street.